Some films are so bad they're good.

Some films are simply so bad.

C.C. and Company, a 1970 film concocted by Roger Smith seemingly in an effort to make wife Ann-Margret relevant in Hollywood once again, is simply so bad.

C.C. Ryder (Joe Namath) is a motorcycle mechanic who joins The Heads, an outlaw biker gang. Fellow gang members begin to harass fashion journalist Ann (Ann Margret) when her limo breaks down in the desert. C.C. comes to her rescue. The bikers then disrupt a motocross event associated with a fashion shoot, an event entered and won by C.C. after having been encouraged by Ann. Unfortunately, this win puts C.C. at direct odds with gang leader Moon (William Smith). When C.C. leaves with his cut of the purse, the bikers kidnap Ann and C.C. is forced to race against Moon to win her freedom.

Yep, it's a Cheezy Flick.

C.C. and Company may actually be most notable for being one of the earliest examples of blatant product placement,with products such as the Flamingo Hotel and Kraft Cheese receiving obviously intentional visual presentation. As we learned fairly quickly with Joe Namath during his brief foray into Hollywood, he's no actor. His performance here could be best described as vanilla, but that may prove insulting to those of you who enjoy vanilla.

How bad is Namath here?

Think Kazaam! 30 years earlier.

Seriously.

Only if you fancy yourself a collector of all "athletes turned actors" movies is this a must see, though one must also realistically confess that this is a Cheezy Flicks DVD release and most folks who love Cheezy Flicks films are likely to find things to enjoy about this one. There is something humorously entertaining about watching Namath's smug "I'm better than you and I know it" grin, but watching it for a full 94 minutes does get a wee bit tiresome.

Ann Margret? Well, C.C. and Company didn't kill her career but it sure didn't do her any favors.

For more information on the film or to pick it up, visit the film's Cheezy Flicks page where you can pick it up for a mere $4.99.

© Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic